A square of printed cotton lies flat on a table. A bottle of sake is set on it at an angle, the cloth is rolled once around, and two corners are pulled up and tied into a neat handle. In less than a minute, a plain piece of fabric has become a gift bag, and the same cloth can later carry a lunch box, cover a pillow or hang on a wall. This is furoshiki, Japan's wrapping cloth.
This guide explains where furoshiki got its curious name, how the cloth moved from temple storehouses to bathhouses to department stores, and what sizes and fabrics are used today. It then walks through the basic knots and two practical wraps, a bottle and a box, and looks at the eco-friendly revival that put the cloth back in shopping bags around the world.
The word furoshiki combines furo (bath) and shiki (to spread), so it literally means bath spread. A popular explanation traces the name to the Muromachi period (1336 to 1573), when guests at the bathhouse of Shogun Ashikaga Yoshimitsu in Kyoto wrapped their clothes in cloths marked with their family crest. The cloth kept each person's belongings separate and then served as a mat to stand on while changing after the bath.
The account is a well loved one, though it is a traditional explanation rather than a documented fact, and wrapping cloths themselves are much older. What is certain is that the word became established during the Muromachi period and that the object it describes had earlier ancestors. Before it was called furoshiki, such a cloth was known by plainer names, among them tsutsumi (a wrapping) and hira-tsutsumi (a flat wrapping).
The oldest ancestors of furoshiki are linked to the Nara period (710 to 794), when wrapping cloths protected precious objects belonging to temples and emperors. The oldest surviving example is held at the Shosoin, the storehouse of Todaiji temple in Nara. In the Heian period (794 to 1185), nobles used cloths to wrap and carry their clothing, and gift-wrapping customs resembling the later fukusa (formal gift cloth) were already practiced.
The cloth found its widest audience in the Edo period (1603 to 1868), when public bathhouses called sento spread through the cities. Ordinary people used a furoshiki to carry clothes and towels to the bath and to lay out on the floor when changing, and merchants used larger cloths to carry goods. In the Meiji period (1868 to 1912), commoners gained the right to use family crests, which increased demand for cloths printed with them. Use fell after the Second World War as paper and plastic bags became common, then returned as interest in sustainability grew.
A furoshiki is usually almost square, and sizes range widely. Small cloths of about 45 by 45 centimeters suit a bento box (lunch box) or a small gift. Cloths of about 70 by 70 centimeters handle a bottle or a book, and cloths of 100 centimeters or more, around a meter across, can carry a week of goods or wrap a large parcel. As a rule, a larger cloth gives more freedom to tie a sturdy knot, so beginners often start with a 70 centimeter size.
Traditional materials are silk and cotton. Modern furoshiki also use chirimen (a crinkled silk or synthetic crepe), rayon, nylon and polyester, at a wide range of prices. Designs often carry auspicious motifs such as cranes, turtles and pines, which are traditional symbols of good fortune, and many cloths are printed on both sides so that either face can show. Hemmed edges and hand-painted details are common on better pieces, and a Kyoto dye shop or a department store counter is the place to see the full range.
Craftspeople developed dozens of ways to fold and tie the cloth, each with its own name. Hon-tsutsumi is used for books, bin-tsutsumi for bottles such as sake, and suika-tsutsumi for round objects such as a watermelon. Japan's Ministry of the Environment has published a leaflet showing 14 folding patterns, so there is an official starting point for anyone who wants a reference.
Most wraps rest on one knot, the basic square knot, in which the right end goes over the left and then the left goes over the right. The result sits flat and does not slip, and it is easy to undo. Another general rule is to place the main pattern of the cloth on the lower half, so that it shows in the center after wrapping, and to choose a cloth large enough that the gift takes up about a third of its area. That leaves enough fabric to fold, tuck and tie neatly.
A bottle wrap is the best first lesson, because the shape rolls itself. Lay the cloth flat and place the bottle on the cloth's diagonal line. If you are wrapping two bottles, set them apart along that diagonal. Fold the front half of the cloth over the bottle, then roll the bottle away from you until it is wrapped, and stand it upright.
Gather the two loose ends at the top and tie them in a double knot, which works as both a closure and a carrying handle. Tuck any extra fabric neatly under the knot so the cloth hangs in a clean shape. The same rolling idea works for a single bottle, a thermos or a tall jar, and a tighter roll gives a smarter finish for gift giving.
For a box, lay the cloth flat and turn it so that a corner points toward you, then place the box in the center with its sides parallel to the cloth's edges so that the box appears to sit on its corner. Bring the corner nearest you up over the box and tuck it underneath. Fold the far corner over the top in the same way.
Next, take the two side corners, pull them snugly across the top and tie them in a square knot. The knot sits in the middle of the box and can be flattened or tucked for a tidy look. For a more decorative result, twist the knot's loose ends into a small bow or tuck a flower or card under it. If the cloth is silk or thin, a lighter box is a safer choice than a heavy one.
In 2006, Environment Minister Yuriko Koike promoted a specially designed cloth she called the Mottainai Furoshiki. Mottainai is a Japanese expression of regret at waste, and the campaign presented the cloth as a reusable alternative to plastic bags. One report notes that a department store in Tokyo's Ginza district sold 800 cloths in two weeks during a related fair, in a shop that had previously sold about ten a month.
Interest has continued to spread beyond Japan. In 2020, The Observer newspaper reported growing interest in the United Kingdom, partly because cloths are seen as more sustainable than single-use wrapping paper. In Japan itself, furoshiki are now used as bags, pillow covers and wall decor, and some makers offer designs adapted to modern life. The appeal is simple: one piece of cloth, folded many ways, can replace paper, ribbon and a bag, then be washed and used again.
A furoshiki is a casual form of wrapping and is much less formal than the fukusa, which is used for formal presentations. It suits gifts to friends, home visits and everyday errands, and it is a warm touch for a present when you do not need a ceremonial look. Many people keep a small cloth in a bag to use as a carrier whenever they need one.
Furoshiki are sold at department stores, museum shops, dye shops in cities such as Kyoto and souvenir stores, and the price depends on the fabric and the print. Read the care label before washing, since silk and cotton need different treatment. For a first purchase, a cotton cloth of around 70 centimeters is a flexible choice. Check the shop's own website for current stock and styles.